


Countermand

by Sanwall



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanwall/pseuds/Sanwall
Summary: Cody considers his General's needs and priorities, where they intersect with his and where they differ.





	Countermand

**Author's Note:**

> Touch starvation is one hell of a thing. I use a lot of obscure armor words in this fic, don't worry about it.

 

**I.**

The ancient temple was a tactical nightmare, that much Cody had known from the start. But that was the thing about what they’re fighting for, he thought while taking cover behind a crumbling pillar, dipping out periodically to fire his blaster against the advancing rows of clankers. Sometimes you have to defend things out of principle, not out of tactical advancement.

But his brothers were outnumbered, they had the low ground, and they were fresh out of poppers. Cody knew they were done for, everything he’d ever learned, every military instinct in him screaming that they needed to retreat before all was lost in the dust and blaster fire.

Then there was a noise that made some deep-seated primal feeling hum alive in Cody; the sound of a lightsaber igniting. He sensed more than saw his General vault over the barricade of broken temple roof to single-handedly repeal the assault. Cody rose quickly, bracing his elbows on the stump of a pillar as he reloaded his blaster and did his best to give Kenobi cover. The HUD of his helmet barely kept track of his movements, blurred by speed as they were.

The general mowed through the droid ranks, leaving nothing but sparking parts in his wake, and nothing in Cody’s training ever prepared him for counting on Jedi capabilities. He didn’t want to count on them either; Kenobi couldn’t be everywhere at once. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t come in handy. Cody looked over his shoulder, caught the eye of a sergeant - too far away for Cody to recognize his helmet paint - and furiously signaled for an advance. The sergeant nodded and relayed the signal. _Never stop moving,_ Cody thought. _Don’t get pinned._

So he moved out from his cover, running through the forest of stone pillars and weaving around obliterated droids, following the path Kenobi had cut for them towards the tank. It was too big to fit in among the pillars, but that didn’t stop it from raining a heavy barrage of artillery on them, and Cody saw Kenobi’s objective to eliminate it. As he ran, he signaled for his brothers to get out, circle back around the tank and take it out from behind. He saw them obey and went straight for the tank himself, which was now unprotected from Kenobi’s attack.

Cody saw that one of his lightsaber slashes had exposed a chunk of expensive wiring on the side of the tank. He fell down on one knee, took aim, and yelled:

“Heads up, sir!”

From the corner of his display, he saw Kenobi’s head whip up, hair flopping into his eyes, and then he did one of those impossible, Force-assisted jumps that always made something swoop in Cody’s stomach to witness. He took a deep breath and fired.

Kenobi landed a few feet from Cody, graceful as always, and Cody took  the shot. His aim was true, the impact thunderous. The tank gave a high whine, the air filled with the smell of singed, electrical fire, and the front of it cracked down into the stone floor, but not before the barrel dispatched one last salve.

Cody could see the charge well out from the mouth of the tank as if in slow motion. He had the time to think _I won’t make it_ but didn’t even have the time to push himself flat to the ground before he felt an invisible pull yank him up and towards-

He crashed into his General as the explosion blew out several stone pillars. They tumbled to the ground in a tangle of durasteel armor and brown robes, and an ominous rumbling was the only warning Cody had before the remaining roof caved in over them.

He ducked his head down, making sure he was caging Kenobi in with his arms and legs, and hoped against hope that his armor would hold as a hail of stones battered against it, and if it didn’t, that Cody’s body would be sufficient protection.

Maybe Kenobi somehow used the Force to create a bubble around them or something, because when the dust settled, they were miraculously not crushed. But when Cody slowly rose to his hands and knees, he saw that Kenobi’s eyes were closed, like he was sleeping.

A cold hand of fear squeezed Cody’s gut and he scooted backwards a little, pulling his helmet off to check for vital signs the old fashioned way; by putting an ear to the mouth. His pulse was rushing in his ears, but Cody still felt the small, damp gust of air against the shell of his ear as Kenobi exhaled, and in that moment it was the best feeling in the world.

Cody sat up and rolled off, gently fitting a hand under Kenobi’s scalp to keep it off the ground and check for head wounds. His robes didn’t seem torn, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have internal bleeding, and it was a weight off Cody’s shoulders when Kenobi’s eyes blinked open.

Cody took a look around. Daylight spilled in through the gaps between the rock covering them, allowing him to see, but none of the gaps were big enough to crawl through, and shifting anything would risk the collapse of whatever precarious balance keeping them alive.

“You should have gotten yourself to safety, sir,” Cody said, surprising himself with his voice. He’d grown used to it being modulated by the helmet that now lay discarded on the ground by his knees that hearing it like this scraped against his nerves.

Kenobi blew out a breath and sat up with a groan so quiet Cody wouldn’t have noticed it if his other hand hadn’t been pressed to his chest.

“And leave my commander to die? I think not,” Kenobi said. There was a dark smudge of dirt across his cheek.

“Better than you being trapped under a temple,” Cody replied, flexing his fingers and shifting his hand so it supported Kenobi’s neck. “You’re not expendable, General.”

“Neither are you,” Kenobi said and closed his eyes again. He didn’t seem to mind Cody’s hand, so Cody didn’t remove it even if it didn’t provide support any longer.

“With all due respect, sir, I’m a clone. We’re made to be expendable.”

The flash of blue was stark in the yellow-tinted dust that covered everything, even Kenobi’s eyelashes, when he opened his eyes again. His hand came up to cover Cody’s, where it rested against his chest, and Cody imagined he could feel the heat of his body through the gloves.

“Have I truly made you think so little of yourself?” Kenobi asked, and there was a note of sorrow to his voice that made it seem brittle. Cody shifted back a little, surprised.

“No, sir,” he said and licked his lips. The dust was everywhere. “It’s just a fact.”

Kenobi’s fingers curled in over Cody’s, squeezing lightly.

“Oh Cody,” he said and looked Cody intently in the eyes. “I thought you knew - each and every one of your brothers are of equal value to any other living being in the galaxy.”

Cody had never heard anyone other than the clones refer to them as brothers before. He blinked.

“If you say so, sir,” he said. He flexed his fingers again before he pulled his hand away from his neck. Kenobi was still holding his other hand, so he couldn’t do anything about that.

There was a shout, and a rumble of falling stone.

Tensing, Cody hunched back in over Kenobi. He felt Kenobi’s arm come up in return, to drape over his back, but before either of them could move or try to take cover, Cody saw Waxer’s helmet peek in through a gap made large enough to fit through.

“We found ‘em!” he heard Waxer shout. “They’re alive.”

Cody felt Kenobi give his hand one last squeeze before they disentangled and got to their feet. Cody picked up his helmet and followed his General, knowing that he would have to adjust future plans to account for his skewed priorities.

**II.**

The General’s shoulders were hunched where he stood over the table in the tactical tent. Uncharacteristic, Cody thought. Kenobi tended to be reserved, quiet in his body language, but never defeated. His voice was soft when he said:

“Never thought I’d say this, but I miss the flagship.”

Cody pulled off his helmet, in a weak act of solidarity. The air in the tent was stale, even unfiltered as it was against his bare skin, and he set the helmet down on the table.

“I feel the same, General,” he said, and took a step closer, to stand beside him in another act of solidarity. “There isn’t much we can do out here, sir, not until the scouts return with their report.”

A flash of blue eyes, a small quirk of thin lips. Cody blinked.

“You don’t have to be so formal when it’s just the two of us, Cody,” Kenobi said. He made a motion with his hand, as if to hitch up the sleeve of a billowing Jedi robe that he wasn’t wearing, before he pulled the hand through his hair. Cody curled his own hands into fists to extinguish the urge to do the same.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate,” Cody said, and when his General turned his head to meet his gaze, he added: “Obi-Wan.”

The smile that spread on Obi-Wan’s face made something warm bloom in Cody’s stomach. It felt almost like a laugh, but not quite. He shifted, cleared his throat. “I meant it when I said there’s nothing you can do right now. Might as well get some rest while you can.”

The smile slipped away as Obi-Wan shook his head, and the hair he’d pushed out of his eyes fell back across his forehead. The light that filtered through the tent fabric gave it a vibrant copper color.

“I couldn’t possibly,” he said tiredly.

Cody blamed that fleeting smile and the warm feeling in his gut, for how he dared to put his hand on Obi-Wan’s arm and tug.

He knew that Obi-Wan allowed himself to be pulled - be it out of surprise, or maybe being perilously close to actually collapsing, Cody didn’t know. If Obi-Wan didn’t want to move, he wouldn’t stand a chance. But Obi-Wan let himself be dragged out of the tactical tent and into his living tent - a smaller and less frequently used space, with a cot and a chest containing clothes and spare armor.

Cody placed him in front of the cot and pressed the flat of his palms against Obi-Wan’s shoulders - a comforting touch common among the clones. Cody doubted Obi-Wan knew the significance of it, but he still felt him relax incrementally under the touch. Cody accidentally met his gaze then and saw the guarded look in his eyes. Like Cody wasn’t the only one out on thin ice.

For the life of him, Cody couldn’t have said what compelled him to move his hands up, to unclasp the cuirass that protected his general’s chest and back, and let the pieces slip off his shoulders together with his pauldrons.

“Oh, no, Cody, I can just as well sleep with it on,” he protested, lifting his shoulders as Cody placed the armor aside. It only made him more determined to see this through.

“You’ll sleep better without it,” Cody replied and hooked his fingers under the vambrace on Obi-Wan’s left arm to pull it off as well.

“I need to be ready at a moment’s notice,” Obi-Wan protested, but Cody noted that he didn’t resist when he reached for the other vambrace as well. “This really isn’t necessary, Cody.”

“We need you to be at your best,” Cody said and gently but firmly pressed at Obi-Wan’s shoulders until his knees bent and he sat down on the very edge of the cot. “That means you need to be well rested.”

Cody dropped to his knees then, his durasteel poleyns hitting the tent floor with a thunk that seemed to echo in his head. He wasn’t stupid, or clueless. He was aware of how the atmosphere changed, how the air seemed charged all of a sudden. He swallowed and gripped Obi-Wan’s calf to yank off the greaves and boots, a little more roughly than was warranted. Obi-Wan let him, and Cody could feel his gaze on him like an itch at the back of his neck.

“I would never expect you to do this, Cody,” Obi-Wan said. Cody grunted and moved on to the other leg, perhaps a little gentler in his grip when he eased the last of the armor off. The enormity of the situation hit him at once, kneeling by his general’s bare feet, but he refused to look up and meet his eyes. Cody kept his gaze firmly locked on Obi-Wan’s knee, and still had one hand on his calf.

“I would never ask you to,” Obi-Wan said then, quietly. Cody finally raised his eyes, saw that Obi-Wan was gripping the edge of the cot tightly enough that his knuckles were white, and he saw that his eyes were hooded and intent.

“You always tell us to do things we want to do, not just the things we’re asked to do,” Cody said boldly and leaned in to press a kiss to the inside of Obi-Wan’s knee.

He heard Obi-Wan exhale, a soft hiss of air. Cody pressed another kiss to his thigh. He was still dressed in his black underclothes and Cody was still in full armor, it would be the easiest thing in the galaxy to push away, put distance between them and pretend this wasn’t happening. No one would ever know.

Cody startled when he felt Obi-Wan touch the side of his face - tracing his scar, he realized, his fingertips feather light.

“And this is something you want to do, is it?” Obi-Wan murmured, and Cody chanced a look up at him. His cheeks were flushed, lips slightly parted, and his eyes gleaming under the fan of lashes.

“Yes,” Cody said, deliberately swallowing the _sir_ that threatened to slip out.

Nothing could make Obi-Wan do something he didn’t want to do, so Cody reasoned this was something he wanted too, when Obi-Wan gave a loud huff and hauled Cody to his feet to start tearing at his armor.

A lifetime of habit made losing the armor easy - Cody was almost hampered by Obi-Wan’s help. Nudity wasn’t foreign to Cody either - he grew up surrounded by brothers who did everything together. This was different however, the intention to touch imbuing their naked skin with a sensuality that Cody was eager to explore. He kissed Obi-Wan’s exposed neck, slid a hand down his hip and over his thigh dusted with light hair that tickled Cody’s palm. His body was lean and the muscles knotted under smooth skin, the war having burned off all excess fat, sanding him down to economical shapes. Cody supposed his own body was much the same, if heavier set.

Cody was used to meetings like this taking on an edge of desperation, the proceedings accelerated by the fear of discovery, or the knowledge of impending death on the battlefield. And though Obi-Wan’s movement did not lack for desperation, it seemed like he deliberately slowed things down, pulling Cody over himself like a blanket, like he wanted as much skin to skin contact as possible. His knees came up, bracketing Cody’s hips, the position so intimate Cody had to catch his breath. It was a strange novelty as he was accustomed to being partially dressed at all times, and he wondered if it was the same for Obi-Wan.

He didn’t ask; instead he pushed up on his arms to bend down and kiss a trail down Obi-Wan’s chest and stomach. Obi-Wan’s hands came up to grasp Cody’s arms, and Cody startled again, the calluses of his General’s palms rough against the tender skin on the inside of his wrists.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan murmured, his voice rasping against something inside Cody that made him shiver. “Would you kiss me?”

Cody was grateful that his complexion hid the worst of the hectic flush that rose on his face. To cover it further, he leaned more of his body weight on Obi-Wan, eliciting a soft groan from him as he nosed his way up to his face and pressed a searching kiss to his lips.

The bristling beard was foreign against Cody’s lips, scraping against the stubble on his jaw, but Obi-Wan opened his mouth in a sigh and Cody thought he could get lost in it if he wasn’t careful. He put all his weight on one arm, raised himself to look down on Obi-Wan and lifted his hand to sift his fingers through his hair, fascinated by the burnished gold color of it against his dark hand. Obi-Wan released his wrist and his hand roamed up his arm, thumb tracing the line of Cody’s muscles until his fingers brushed against his neck and then traveled down along his spine. It felt so good that Cody’s eyes closed and he let his head drop down, resting his forehead against Obi-Wan’s while he pressed his palm against the back of his head, lifting it off the pillow.

He didn’t think he would get used to Obi-Wan yielding so readily beneath him, but it was intoxicating, how he countered, matching Cody move for move. It was a clever distraction, the way he surged up to capture Cody’s mouth in another kiss as he slipped his hand in between them to get his hand on him. The breath left Cody’s lungs in a sharp groan, but Obi-Wan licked the sound out of his mouth and used his other hand to press Cody closer by the nape of his neck, his knuckles brushing his coarse, shorn hair, and Cody was helpless to resist.

It was dry and a little uncomfortable, but the heat was irresistible and the desperation familiar, so Cody bucked his hips and clenched his teeth to keep another groan from escaping. Obi-Wan pressed a kiss to the side of his face, at his jaw, and his breathing was coming in uneven bursts even if he didn’t make a sound. Through a massive effort of will, Cody hitched himself up on one arm again and saw how Obi-Wan’s eyes blinked open. Cody raised his hand to his mouth and spat in the open palm, watched how Obi-Wan’s eyelashes fluttered when he reached down between them as well, returning the favor.

The way Obi-Wan closed his eyes again, his lips parting in a sigh as he craned his head back, had Cody thinking this was all worth it - the risk, the compromising of ideals and proper conduct. Obi-Wan’s breath hitched, the only warning Cody had before he came. His body arched, a bowline of tension against Cody’s, but his hand didn’t let up. Soon Cody followed him over the edge, desperately burying the sounds he made in Obi-Wan’s welcoming mouth.

For a moment, they only lay panting together, Cody slumped half on top of Obi-Wan and his mind blissfully blank. Soon, however, his mind turned to practical matters, the awareness of cooling bodily fluids and the chilly air of the tent making the hairs on the back of Cody’s thighs rise up. He felt Obi-Wan move beneath him, a soft sigh escaping him.

“You’re thinking very loudly, you know,” he said, and Cody didn’t know how to disentangle with dignity, so he simply sat up to look down at him.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Obi-Wan blinked, a smile gracing his lips but not quite reaching his eyes. He looked beatific, Cody thought. Difficult to think he’d lower himself to baser needs, even if the evidence was all over them both.

“The use of my first name didn’t last long,” Obi-Wan said, but he didn’t sound like he begrudged Cody for it. He sat up as well, settling his hand on Cody’s arm in a touch somewhere between intimate and reassuring. “I want to reiterate that I will never expect this of you, even if I received it gladly.”

It was Cody’s turn to exhale, and in an act of final bravery he touched his nose to Obi-Wan’s. He started at the gesture, fixing Cody with a searching gaze.

“I understand,” Cody said. He breathed in and out once more before he got to his feet and procured a towel to wipe them down - he started with Obi-Wan, who insisted on returning the favor, even if Cody shivered in the chill of the tent as he obediently stayed still under his ministrations. They got dressed in their black underclothes by themselves, but when Obi-Wan reached for his armor, Cody put his hand on his arm to stop him.

“I meant what I said about sleep, General,” he said, maybe a little admonishingly. Obi-Wan smiled, but his eyes dropped down to his feet.

“Will you stay?” he asked, lightly. Leaving Cody the option to opt out.

“Of course,” Cody said and settled down on the bed as Obi-Wan sat down too. As Obi-Wan fell asleep with his head pillowed on Cody’s thigh, Cody thought that he would have to put on his armor soon, go check on the troops. It would have to wait though, because Obi-Wan’s features were finally smoothed out in sleep, and Cody thought that this was something that they both needed.

**III.**

“General!”

Cody’s voice was rough, the word just a bark, and maybe he imagined the way Obi-Wan - _Kenobi_ \- twitched before he settled into the calm statue that made it seem like he was in full control. Cody was grateful for his own helmet, the way it masked his clenched jaw and lowered eyebrows.

“Commander,” Kenobi said, like he wasn’t covered in grime and blood and his lightsaber wasn’t humming in his hand and casting him in a deadly blue glow. Cody was still hunched over, barely on his feet after having been thrown behind shelter, and he resented Kenobi for his ability to recover so quickly.

“Permission to speak freely, sir!”

“Of course, Cody,” Kenobi said, and his voice softened as he said his name. Cody inhaled so sharply the air filters in his helmet barely kept up. It was his own selfishness that had put the General in danger, and he would have to take the blame.

“You ran into the line of fire just to get me out,” he pressed out between gritted teeth. Kenobi blinked, an irritatingly slow fan of eyelashes. “The mission was to hold the line, sir, and the troops could have used you.”

Cody nodded to his brothers posted along the line in question. He could see one trooper turn his helmet to look at the two of them, but he was too far away to hear what they were saying. Cody was grateful for that.

“We’re going to have to regroup,” Cody continued, when Kenobi said nothing. His lightsaber still hummed, a threatening note in the silence of a battlefield waiting to happen. “Next time, let me do my job so you can do yours.”

The visor of Cody’s helmet distorted color, he knew that, but he also knew by heart the color of Kenobi’s eyes. He also recognized the disapproving twist to his mouth - it was barely perceptible, but it was there. Cody straightened to attention, but as he turned away Kenobi reached out and put a hand on Cody’s arm, just below his elbow.

He froze, like he’d been stunned. They were in full view of his brothers, and Cody suddenly didn’t know how to breathe.

“Sometimes,” Kenobi said, and surely Cody imagined the way his voice was pitched lower and wavered. “Even a Jedi does something just because they want to.”

Cody drew in a deep breath and turned just enough to reach up and clasp Kenobi’s arm in return. Their arms, interlinked and pressed against each other, the white vambraces chafing against each other.

“General,” Cody said, wishing so deeply to be able to smooth out the deep furrow between Obi-Wan’s eyebrows. “I’m a soldier. You have responsibilities.”

“Don’t lecture me about responsibility,” Kenobi said, a sharp note to his voice now. “Not you.”

Cody inclined his head. The chin of his helmet touched his breastplate.

“I know you know,” he said. “We need to act like it.”

Kenobi’s hand slipped off Cody’s arm, and Cody released his grip. They both straightened up, the sheen of the lightsaber coloring Cody’s armor blue.

“Very well, Commander,” Kenobi said, his usual dry inflection in place in his voice. “Let us regroup.”

“Any further orders, sir?” Cody asked and gripped his blaster with both hands. Kenobi tilted his head to the side, and Cody mimicked the movement.

“Yes,” he said and flashed Cody a quick grin. “Stay safe.”

“I’ll do my best,” Cody said before he turned to organize the regrouping. That was as much as he could promise, and he wouldn’t even get that from Obi-Wan in return. At least Cody could find comfort in having a mandate to prioritize Obi-Wan’s life over his own.


End file.
